The Call

by B. A. Cubbage

  “I love sex with you after a morning run.” I say it between breaths.

  “I know. I’m pretty great aren’t I?”

  I smack his arm and he laughs. “Such a smartass.”

  “Yeah, but without this smartass, you wouldn’t be fully satisfied right now. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “You’re not wrong. Now get that smartass into the shower and go make me breakfast.”

  He pulls out of me, lifts me up, and sets me on my feet. “Bossy.”

  “Would you have me any other way?” I smile and kiss him as I pass him to the shower.

  “Mm. No I would not.”

  »»•««

  “I love your muffins.” I'm sure I look like a chipmunk with my cheeks full of his three-berry muffins while I sit on the counter next to the oven.

  One side of his mouth lifts as he flips the omelet in the pan. “And I love your muffins.” He leans over and kisses my lips.

  “Hey, you know, that’s bad for the counter. Please tell me that you have underwear on?” I lean my head on the cupboards behind me.

  “Good morning to you too, Damon. Where’s Sam?”

  “Yeah, don’t knock or anything by the way.” Abraham throws one of the muffins at Damon’s face, but he catches it before it can hit his nose.

  “Thanks. And I won’t. She’s at brunch with Kate.” I really like that the two of them get along. I was worried Kate would hate her automatically because she’s dating my twin and is becoming a really close friend. “I’m surprised that Mickey isn’t over here?”

  “Well, unlike some people we know, he and Devon called earlier and said they were going to pick up fireworks for the Fourth, and would be over afterward.”

  Damon smiles around a mouthful of triple berry muffin. “You love seeing this beautiful mug.”

  “Not when it’s spitting muffin out all over my clean floor.” I suppress my smile when Abraham goes to the pantry and grabs a broom and dust pan.

  Damon looks at me in question. I shake my head, indicating for him not to ask or comment on it. I’ve definitely concluded that Abraham isn’t OCD by any means, but he definitely hates anything getting dirty. “Anyways.” He heads for the fridge and pours himself a glass of disgusting orange juice. “Are we doing anything tonight?”

  “Reagan and I are going furniture shopping. And no, you’re not invited to come.”

  “Man, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

  “I just want an evening with your sister where I can chase her around the house, naked, without you or Devon trying to smack me.”

  Damon’s lip curls and I laugh. “Dude.”

  Abraham cocks a brow at him. “Dude.”

  “Okay children, enough. Damon, why don’t you take Sam out tonight? She’s been talking about how much she wants to try that new seafood joint out on Bourbon Street. You should take her there tonight.

  “Devon is taking Sara to the movies later and Mickey and Kate are staying in watching movies. With Abraham and myself staying in as well, you should take Sam and do your own thing tonight too.”

  “That’s not a bad idea. Thanks, brat.”

  “Anytime, asshat. Sam told me that you guys were looking at puppies the other day?”

  His face lights up like it used to on Christmas morning. “We did. We think that we’re going to get a German Shepherd puppy.”

  “Those are good guard dogs. One of the best actually. Great with kids too.”

  His eyes get big and he takes a step back. Abraham drops the spatula from his hand. “I am so not thinking about kids right now. Twenty-seven, Reagan, we are twenty-seven. I don’t plan on having kids until well after I’m married. And that shit isn’t happening anytime soon.”

  “Sometimes you can’t plan these things you know?”

  They both look at me, Abraham in scared anger and Damon in just plain fear. “Do you know something that we don’t, Reagan?”

  “Calm yourself, Abraham. Sam isn’t pregnant…well, not that I know of anyway.” They both exhale and their bodies visibly relax. “Men. Good God.” I hop down from the counter and head upstairs to the game room.

  Honestly, boys and their stupid views on girls getting pregnant without warning. It’s not like it’s their dumb asses that have to endure a ridiculous body change. All they do is the fun part. Duh.

  I plop my butt down on the couch and put in COD. About halfway through my second game, Sam comes in and sits next to me. “When this round is done, can I play with you? I want to get better at it.”

  “I’m always up for a partner in crime. How was lunch?”

  She perks up. “It was great. Kate is pretty awesome. To be honest, I was scared that she wouldn’t like me.”

  I laugh and hand her one of the other controllers. “I was worried about that too. Not because you’re not cool, but because of her and my relationship.”

  “That’s what I was worried about. But you guys are all really cool, treating me as if I’ve always been a part of the gang. I really like being a part of this weird little group.”

  “I’m glad that you and Damon decided to give it another go. Not that any of us had a clue that there was even a first time.”

  She laughs. “Speaking of well-kept secrets, does Abraham know yet what you’re doing tomorrow?”

  “No, I’m hoping that Mickey can keep his big mouth shut around your brother and mine. I mean, it’s not like it will be a huge secret when I come home tomorrow anyways. I couldn’t hide a tattoo anywhere, even on conspicuous places on my body, let alone a half sleeve.

  “Mickey cleared his schedule for me. Says I should be done a little after lunch if we start at eight. What do you think Abraham will think about it?”

  “To be honest, I think that he will love it. More than I care to think about.” She shivers. “Especially because you’re the one who drew it up. He can’t stand it when I get tattoos that aren’t an original piece of art.”

  “Yeah, he’s really weird about that. You should have seen him the first time that he met Sara and found out that every single one of her tattoos were picked off of a website. I swear he lost a year of his life right there on the spot. It cracks me up.”

  “He is a goofy one.” We turn our attention to the game.

  Some odd amount of time later, Sam and I are yelling into our microphones at the other players. They're some snot-nosed kids who think they’re ‘so fucking awesome’ but when you get into a lobby with them, all they do is fucking camp out. Shit pisses me off.

  “Ladies, ladies, simmer down.” Devon comes over and kisses the top of my head. “Hey, brat. Kicking some ass?”

  “Always. Where’s Sara?”

  “She’s downstairs with Georgie boy.” I look at him, confused, and he elaborates. “It’s Mickey’s nickname, remember?”

  Sam talks without taking her eyes off of the screen. “You know, for the longest time, I thought that that was Mickey’s actual name?”

  “Don’t feel bad, apparently Reagan didn’t know that your brother’s name wasn’t actually Abraham. That’s how they didn’t know that they were texting each other.”

  I laugh. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I was sleeping with him before I knew that he was Elijah.”

  “Gross.” Devon hits me with a throw pillow. “I didn’t need to hear that.”

  “You already knew, genius. You guys kinda sorta walked in on us. How could you forget the day that all four of you walked out of the hospital with some type of injury?”

  “I still didn’t need to hear it come out of your mouth.” I look at him and smile. Recognizing my smile, he puts his fingers in his ears, stands, and goes, “No! No! La, la, la, la, la, la.” All the way down the stairs.

  Sam turns to me when the round is over and laughs. “I love how evil your brain is. I just have to ignore the fact that it’s my brother that you’re doing these things with.”

  “Ditto on that one, sister. Let’s go get some lunch.”

  We put our c
ontrollers away and move to go downstairs and join the group. I stop in the middle of the room and turn to look out the windows.

  “Reagan? What’s up?”

  “I swear I just saw something outside by the lake.” The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I have to take my hand to them to get them to go down.

  “Something like what?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s just go downstairs with everyone else.” Before we descend the stairs, I shut and lock the balcony doors.

  The more I think about it, we haven’t had any run-ins with Chris, or danger, since last Monday when I was chased. I’m hoping this is pure coincidence and he has no idea that we moved or where.

  “Hey, angel. Did you show those posers who’s boss?” He opens his arms indicating for me to come and sit in his lap in my reading chair.

  “Always. Where’s Mickey and Kate?” He wraps his arms around me.

  “Preggers had a full belly. She wanted to go to bed.”

  Devon scoffs and chimes in, “No, pregzilla was tired and, as a result, cranky as hell. Man, that woman is mean. Let’s hope that the evil spawn within takes after his dad. Shit.”

  “Hey, be nice. You’d be an asshole too if you had to deal with the discomfort that she is dealing with right now. Don’t bag on my wife, asshat.”

  Devon looks past me at Abraham. “Yeah, good luck with that when she gets pregnant. I’ll be in the Bahamas.”

  Abraham chuckles. “Reagan won’t be cranky. I’ll make it impossible for her to be upset about anything. Beside, she’ll be carrying a miniature me inside of her. She will glow so bright that the space station will see it.”

  I elbow him in the ribs. “Cocky.”

  He leans his head down and nips at my ear. “You love it.”

  “Okay. And that is my cue to leave. Deuces.” He walks past us and smacks the back of my head. “Later, brat.”

  “Have fun at the movies, asshat.” He waves and shuts the door behind him.

  Damon comes out of the bathroom. “All right. Sam, you ready?”

  “Whenever you are.” She joins his side, they say their goodbyes and then they leave.

  “Do you hear that?” Still being on edge from earlier, I stop breathing and listen to my surroundings. “We’re all alone in this big empty house.”

  My body relaxes and I take a relieved breath. “Well, stud. Now that you’ve got me to yourself, what are you going to do with me?”

  That sexy smirk appears on his face. The one that shows just a hint of a dimple on his right cheek. “You’ve got eleven seconds left. Use them wisely, sweet girl.”

  “Shit.” I’m out of his lap and up the stairs before he’s done counting.

  “Three… Two… One… Ready or not, here I come.”

  Shit, shit, shit. Where the hell am I going to hide? Oh. I know. I take off out of the balcony door, leaving it open behind me. I stand in one of the two back corners so I can see him coming from either direction.

  “That’s not a very good use of the eleven seconds I gave you. Where are you going to go now? We both know that I’m faster than you.”

  Putting my hand on the railing, I look at him and smile. “I figured I’d take a page out of your playbook. Try and keep up, Abraham.” I jump into the air, over the railing, and push off of it with my hand. I manage to launch myself farther away from the house. When I land, it’s in the middle of our pool, and I swim to the closest side to the house.

  When I break the surface, I see him hit the water. I’ve got mere seconds before he’ll have his hands on me. I jump out and take off toward the house. “Don’t you dare! You’re soaked!”

  I turn and jog backward so he can see the smile on my face. “Then I guess you’d better hurry up and catch me, huh?”

  “Damn it!” He slips like three times before he makes it out of the pool. I’m already in the house, slipping and sliding all over the place. When I make it to the game room upstairs I hear him tearing through the house after me.

  “You’re getting slow, Abraham!”

  “You will so pay, woman! Where are you?”

  “Promises, promises! Come and find me!”

  I’m standing at the foot of the bed with my back to it and watching the door. He sprints in and comes to a screeching halt just inside the entryway, almost falling on his wet ass. “Don’t you dare.”

  “Do you think you’re fast enough now, Abraham?”

  “That’s a trick question. If I say no, you’ll jump and tell me that I’m right. If I say yes, you’ll do it just to prove me wrong.”

  “If I’m going to do it either way, then why are you fighting it? Why even try?”

  “Good point.” I squeal and he spears me onto the bed. It’s drenched from our dripping wet selves the second our bodies make contact.

  »»•««

  Abraham

  Abraham: I wasn’t even close to being ready to leave you this morning. How’s work?

  It takes her longer than usual to reply. She must be piercing someone. It’s three o’clock in the afternoon. I’ve come to loathe Mondays. Shit, for that matter, I’ve come to loathe every second I’m not buried inside of my sweet girl.

  I groan out loud for probably the hundredth time today. Every time I think about everything we did last night into this morning, my dick pitches a tent in my slacks.

  Reagan: You’ll have me again in a few hours. It’s work. How’s your day, other than the obvious of missing me deeply…or missing my lips around you.

  Abraham: Stop it. You’re making me fidgety.

  Reagan: That’s kind of the point, stud.

  Abraham: What, to make me so uncomfortable and sexually frustrated that I leave early and come ravage you in front of God and everybody at that shop?

  Reagan: Something like that—you’ll have to be gentle with me for the next couple of days

  Abraham: What? Why? What are you up to woman?

  Reagan: You’ll just have to wait and see, now won’t you?

  I may have to actually leave early. It’s always something big when she’s being cryptic.

  Abraham: What if I told you that I was on my way to the shop right now?

  Reagan: I’d say that you were lying because you took your bike today and you can’t text while driving your bike.

  Smart girl. “Stone, I’m bored out of my fucking mind. Tell me you’ve got something that will keep me busy?”

  “Why don’t you just go home if you’re done?”

  Bill huffs. “My mother is in town and staying at my house. For the entire week, dude. That’s a week without sex. I don’t want to go home and watch lifetime with her until bed. And I sure as shit don’t want to sit here and do nothing for the rest of the day. Help me out here.”

  “Shit, I’m not going to say no to that. Here. It’s my last case file of the day. It should keep you busy for about two hours. Three if you drag it out.”

  “I never thought I’d thank anyone for giving me more work to do but thanks, dude.”

  “You’re welcome.” I grab my helmet and backpack and head out to my bike.

  »»•««

  I pull into the parking lot of “Mickey’s Ink & Holes.” My helmet’s under my arm and I walk through the door. “Be right with you,” Mickey calls from his station. Where the hell is Reagan?

  I stand off and to the side of Mickey’s door looking in from a distance. Reagan is in Mickey’s chair and he’s finishing up a half sleeve of what looks like roses on her right arm. It’s fucking hot as hell on her. Fuck, if I were a dog, I’d be drooling.

  Reagan senses my presence. She doesn’t even look up from what Mickey is doing when she says, “You are supposed to be at work for another two hours.”

  I walk forward and lean against the door jam. “If I’d of known what you were doing, I would have been here first thing this morning.”

  “And that’s why it was a surprise. Good job ruining it, punk.”

  “You love me.”

  She looks up at me for
the first time. “I really do.”

  “I’m almost done. Then you two can lick each other all over for all I care. But let me finish up this rose.”

  We laugh and I sit down on Mickey’s desk. It only takes him five minutes to finish. “I can’t believe you sat through an entire half sleeve in one session. My girl’s got balls.”

  “Of steel, babe.” She smiles. Mickey gets her wiped down and puts ointment on her. “All right, Mickey, since Mr. Impatient is already here, I’m going to take off and go get something other than chips and pop in my belly.”

  “Have at it, baby girl. I’ll see you two at dinner. Kate says that she doesn’t care where we go, so long as there’s a variety of things to choose from.”

  Reagan laughs, “Tell her that she gets to pick. You know damn well that by the time six rolls around, she will have some type of outrageous craving that will need to be filled immediately if we don’t want to get clobbered.”

  “This is true. I’ll let you guys know where she wants to go, say around five-ish?”

  “Sounds good. Nice work by the way. I owe you a case of beer.”

  “I’ll be taking you up on that offer, Abraham. Catch you guys later.”

  We walk out of the shop and I walk Reagan to her Jeep. “So, I take it, you like it?”

  “No. I fucking love it. It’s sexy as hell. I can’t wait until it’s healed enough that I won’t have to be conscientious of it while ravaging you.”

  “Mm promises, promises.” Grabbing her around the waist, I pull her in and give her a little taste of just how hot I think her new sleeve is. “Wow. You really do like it. Good.”

  “Yeah, let’s get ourselves home so I can have a little bite of you.”

  “Yes sir.” She hops in her Jeep and I follow her home on my bike. I thought it was weird that she didn’t want to take her bike in today. It was perfect weather for it this morning. Well, now I know why.

  We pull down the drive and I’m cussing her Aunt Kathy under my breath. She’s sitting on our porch with Uncle Peter, sipping lemonade. She waves to us. I want to strangle them. They couldn’t have worse timing.

  “Hey, you two. My, my, Reagan. Is that a new tattoo? I like it. I would ask how you like it, Abraham, but I already know how you think.” Uncle Peter gives me a knowing look. Good, maybe they will leave.